Monday, March 8, 2010

Clodhopper

I walk like a duck.

It's a problem.

Both of my feet point outward in a diagonal fashion and I have size 14 shoes. It looks like my legs are constantly trying to run in opposite directions. Because of this, there are a lot of things I'm not able to do physically, like:

1) Approach a woman in a sexual manner.

2) Go downhill skiing without being torn in two.

Everytime I walk towards someone, it looks like I'm trying to corral them. I'm like a sheepdog that frightens people.

And because of the Dumbo/Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer fantasy world that we all grew up in, I keep thinking that someday this deformity of mine will come in handy. Like one day, I'll save the world because of my uniquely stupid feet and all the tripping and rodeo clown comments will have been worthwhile. Unfortunately, as shown by Dumbo and Rudolph, redeeming physical awkwardness seems to be predicated on being able to fly. I've fallen off enough ladders to know I can't do that. There must be some other kind of hidden super-power that I possess that I will discover someday accidentally. It doesn't even have to be a super-big one. I'll take whatever! If I find out that, although I have duck-feet, I also have the ability to melt cheese from up to 50 feet away, I'd be cool with that. People would like that. I would make friends over nachos. I don't ask for much.